The Diary of a Nobody
Being the modern day record of Charles
Pooter VI -
direct descendant of the 19th Century original
Saturday, April 24, 2010
I was hurrying back from Tesco when a man stopped me and said “Hey! I know your face!”. Politely, I said, “Very likely: lots of people know me, though often I don’t know them”. He replied, “But you know me – Teddy Finsworth”. Which it was. He’d been at my school. I’d not seen him in years. Hardly surprising I didn’t recognise him. At school, he’d been at least a head taller than me. Now I’m a head taller than him, and he’s got a thick beard which is almost grey. He insisted we have a drink together (I never do that after work) and told me he lived in Middlesborough where he was Chief Executive on the City Council, a position as high as the head of the GLA in London. He went on to say he was down in London for a few days staying with his uncle Edgar Paul Finsworth (of Finsworth and Pultwell). He said he was sure his uncle would be pleased to see me: he had a nice house called Watney Lodge, a couple of minutes from Muswell Hill Station. I gave him my e-mail and mobile number, and we parted company.In the evening, I got an e-mail from Mr Finsworth saying if we (Carrie and me) would come along for lunch on Sunday, at one o’clock, he’d be delighted. Carrie didn’t fancy it, but the e-mail was fairly pressing, so Carrie stuck the chicken she’d already bought for Sunday’s roast in the freezer.
©MMIX KONSIGNIA. All rights reserved.
Why shouldn’t
I publish
my diary?
I often see memoirs by people I’ve never even heard of and I don’t see why my diary should be any less interesting, just because I’m not a ‘celebrity’. I only wish I’d started it when I was younger.
Charles Pooter
The Laurels, 32 Elmside,
Barleycorn Mead, Harrow on the Hill.
charles@charlespooter.com
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